Page 26

Story: The Lake Escape

We get into the car. It’s a luxurious ride. The leather seat caresses my skin. The dashboard has enough sophisticated electronics that this thing should be able to fly.

Taylor offers me bottled water, which I accept and drink greedily.

She fires up Spotify—some pop song about love, loss, and a cheating ex-boyfriend starts playing.

I wonder if it makes Taylor think about Lucas.

Is that what she wants to talk about? What did I see?

What do I know? Precisely what David doesn’t want me to share.

His words of warning come back to me, and my arm starts throbbing all over again.

Whatever Taylor wants to discuss, she’s keeping it to herself.

We silently cruise along narrow Vermont back roads, moving at a decent clip.

Taylor is definitely on a mission. She has some specific destination in mind.

But why keep it a secret? At least she’s a good driver and very conscientious.

She always keeps two hands on the wheel and looks comfortable maneuvering this big, expensive car.

“This is my father’s real love,” she tells me. “He’s obsessed with this ride.”

“I bet,” I say, marveling again at the interior and how the upper class lives. “Why’d he let you take it?”

The verdant beauty of Vermont speeds past us at a dizzying pace. The greenery is so lush it’s like I’m driving through a painting.

“He’ll do anything I ask. You know—Daddy’s little girl.” Taylor sends me a telling smile.

“Oh yeah, I can relate,” I say. “My parents are divorced and my father will basically buy me anything to pay off his emotional debt.” We share a laugh that helps to break the ice. I take the opportunity to check in with her. “So how are you doing?” I ask.

“About Lucas, you mean?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I didn’t intend for you to find out that way. I’m sure it was a shock.”

“It’s better that I know.” Her voice has an edge that wasn’t there a moment ago.

“I didn’t see them do anything major, just a kiss,” I feel the need to explain.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Taylor says coldly and doesn’t elaborate.

We drive in silence for a few minutes, with my gaze out the window, the music barely registering in my ears as my thoughts drift elsewhere.

It’s odd how worried I am about the kids.

Is David going to feed them a good lunch?

He is their father, but I wouldn’t fill them up with so much junk that they won’t have room for a couple of vegetables or some fruit in their system.

And they must be wondering about Fiona. What’s he saying to them?

Maybe it’s the crisis, but I’m protective of these little rug rats all of a sudden. I’m like an undercover cop who’s gotten too close to the subject of an investigation.

Eventually Taylor turns off the road, and we bump along a rocky lane. It’s very shady. With the window down, the change in the air brings a sudden coolness to my skin. We don’t drive far down this uneven route before Taylor pulls over abruptly, coming to a hard stop. “We’re here,” she says.

We get out at the same time and I follow Taylor toward a clearing. Soon we’re surrounded by a wide expanse of tall, lush green grass dotted with wildflowers. The sun beams down on us with few trees to offer shade.

What stands out to me most is the lopsided rectangle of recently dug-up earth about the size of a tennis court.

Sprigs of vegetation already pop up through the rocky soil.

By this time next year, it’ll be hard to tell the land here had ever been excavated.

Flapping in a nearby tree is a strip of yellow plastic that catches my eye.

It looks like the tail of some kid’s kite caught in the branches.

As I get closer, I make out black lettering printed on the plastic strip spelling out C-A-U.

I’m not a huge fan of Wheel of Fortune, but if I had to buy a vowel, it would be an I or an O to finish the word: CAUTION.

Which is exactly how I’m approaching the dug-up earth. My steps are purposeful to avoid trampling over potential evidence.

“What is this place?” I ask, my voice slightly hitched. I think I know the answer. It’s beautiful here, a grand vista overlooking a lush valley below, but a touch of melancholy hangs in the air.

A wicked gleam springs to Taylor’s eyes. “This,” she says, her dark smile spreading, “is the scene of the crime.”

“The bones?” I whisper, feeling both confident and afraid that I’m right.

Taylor confirms with a nod. “Yup. This was going to be somebody’s home.

They were going to widen the road and build a four-bedroom house, until their contractor dug up a body.

Now it’s just been sitting here since the discovery.

Seems like the owner has no interest in continuing to build on a grave site—bad feng shui, or something. ”

A shot of fear burns down my spine. That skull was somebody’s somebody.

“Do the police know anything?” I ask as a shiver ripples through me.

Taylor answers with a shrug. “I mean, there’s no positive ID on the remains yet, not that I’ve heard.”

“So we don’t know—”

“If it’s connected to the vanishings?” Taylor asks, finishing my thought. “No. I guess it could be anybody—there are more missing people in this state than just the two women from Lake Timmeny.”

This is my first time visiting an actual crime scene, and I’m all kinds of conflicted.

When it’s a podcast, it’s like getting caught up in a story.

But this feels real and deeply personal.

The sunshine can’t warm me. It’s as if the smell of decay is somehow caught in the air and trapped in the sodden earth.

Even though the bones are long gone, their presence surrounds us.

I feel I shouldn’t speak, that this should be a place of quiet reverence and solemn contemplation, but I need to know more.

“Why did you bring me here?” I ask, wondering if Taylor notices the crack in my voice.

“You told me you’re a true crime fanatic. Well, here’s a true crime for you.”

“I think we might have another back at the house,” I say. “There’s something super strange about Fiona’s disappearance. I wonder if the divers have found anything yet. God, I hope not, but—”

“I’m sure they’ve got nothing,” Taylor says. “No Lake Timmeny vanishing has ever been solved that quickly.”

I eye Taylor with uneasy suspicion. “You’re not thinking we should go all Scooby-Doo on this? I enjoy podcasts, but that doesn’t make me an expert in solving crimes.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.” Taylor pats my shoulder encouragingly. “I bet you know way more than you think.”

The compliment makes me self-conscious. “I mean yeah, sure, I know some things. You have to secure the crime scene, identify all people present, and cordon off the area. Then you start talking to witnesses. It’s a whole process.

” My gaze flickers to the piece of yellow caution tape still trapped in a tree branch.

In my mind, I can see how the early stages of this investigation might have played out.

Taylor’s face lights up. “See, you know plenty.”

“But I don’t have the bones, any physical evidence, or the case files… I have no idea how to do anything useful.”

“I don’t want you to work this case, Izzy,” Taylor explains. “I brought you here in the hope that I’d inspire you to work a different one for me.”

I squint in confusion. “What then?”

“I need to know the truth about Lucas. I have to know if he did something to Fiona.”

My face burns hot. “Lucas?” I whisper.

“Yes,” says Taylor. “If you had asked me last year, I’d have said I knew everything there was to know about Lucas Sullivan, but now… my head is spinning, and I don’t know what to think.”

“It was only a kiss,” I remind her.

“That’s all you saw, ” she shoots back. “Who knows what happened after that. Boys can be— pushy . Trust me.”

David’s warning rings loudly in my mind.

I’m tempted to tell Taylor about the security camera blackout last night, but I keep quiet.

Could Fiona have snuck out of the house to rendezvous with the enigmatic young musician next door?

It didn’t occur to me until just now that Fiona herself could have tampered with the system to get away with a late-night tryst.

“If I’m going to investigate, I need to know the whole story between you and Lucas.”

Taylor sinks into a moment of quiet contemplation, staring at the upturned earth that was once an unmarked grave.

“I’ll tell you what,” she says, refocusing her attention on me. “I want you to go into this unbiased. But if you find out exactly what happened between them or if he has anything to do with her disappearance, I’ll tell you everything. Honestly, I could use someone to talk to when I’m ready.”

Well, shit. How can I say no to that? Whatever this is about, it’s obvious Taylor needs a friend.

“All right,” I say. “I’m in.”

We shake on it, even though it feels wrong to make pledges at the site of a tragedy. Or perhaps that makes it a sacred vow.